


Sweet Dreams about Coffee in the Morning

by Hello_Mr_Mustache (UltramarineMaizes)



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4440218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltramarineMaizes/pseuds/Hello_Mr_Mustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a kind of a routine thing where Sougo goes to sleep thinking about what other stupid things to argue about with that stupid barista from the coffee house down the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams about Coffee in the Morning

“You shitty kid!! Stop tracking mud all over the patio I just cleaned!”

That _shitty_ barista chases after Sougo down the street and grabs him by the collar. Squirming to get out of his grasp, he shoves those stupid surprisingly rough hands and the smell of roasted coffee away.

“Get your hands off me. Your crappy coffee tastes like the mud all over your stupid patio,” he spits scathingly, purposely tailoring each word for the maximum probability of eliciting deep annoyance.

“Why you little-”

He lunges at Sougo again-- his height advantage over Sougo makes him have to take larger leaps backward to avoid getting caught.

“Of course you would know the taste of mud, that’s probably all you ever eat,” the barista fires back at him after failing to catch him again. Yep, if the dirt thing didn’t do it, then he’s definitely annoyed now. But is it just him or does the barista sound meaner than he should?

It should bother him but- “Yea well say if I did, the coffee you make tastes like the worst tasting mud on the planet!”

“You little shit, like you would know!”

They chase each other around the street arguing about what exactly is the composition and location of most disgusting tasting mud on the planet (no galaxy), completely deviating from the original point, until someone throws open a window and tells them to shut the fuck up because _it's fucking 8am in the morning and some people are still trying to sleep._ Sougo, being the polite kid that his sister raised him to be, raises up a hand in apology, turns and sticks his tongue out at the stupid barista and runs off. He’s almost late for class.

It’s like this everyday. Kind of like a part of the daily ritual that Sougo has unwittingly developed. He leaves his house, walks down the road through the suburbs into the little shopping street where the ShinSen Coffee House stands. It’s actually a nice quaint little coffee shop and the owner of the place is very nice, warm and has an obsession on talking about his hairy butt. Their desserts are decent and their coffee is better than the convenience store kind which is saying something as Sougo is, by no means, a coffee connoisseur of any kind.

The stupid barista, who’s name he never bothered to learn because he sucks, has been working there since the shop opened. But Sougo can’t remember when this thing they do, with the arguing over the silliest things every morning until someone yells at them to stop, started. All he knows is that it’s something about that stupid face of his, with his stupid v-shaped bangs and his dark eyes morphing to annoyance is a source of endless amusement. He just wants to see how far he can push the barista, what he’ll do, how he’ll sound, what expressions he’ll have.

“I heard you were arguing with that barista again,” Mitsuba says when he gets home from school.

“Who?” Sougo asks innocently.

“Sougo.” Ah, that tone.

“Don’t play dumb. You can’t be bothering people so early...no, you shouldn’t be bothering people like that,” she corrects herself.

Even while gently scolding him, Mitsuba is definitely a little cross with him. And he knows it’s definitely a problem, but he can’t help it. Unwilling to see her stress over silly things like his arguments with that dumb barista, Sougo concedes.

“Yes, sis, I know. I’ll try not to.”

“Good,” she returns to folding bed sheets, seamlessly folding the fitted sheets with such mastery it looks like it just came out of the package. (Sougo always admired her ability to do that because when he tries it comes out as a lumpy pile.)

“But you know,” she lets out a giggle, “You and him, always start arguing whenever you meet, and you two are always so silly...It kind of makes me wonder if it is not just because you hate him, you know what I mean”

She looks at him with a twinkle in her eye and Sougo rolls his eyes and trudges off, his voice trailing, “Noooo, you’re so wrong, sis.”

He hears _whatever you say_ as he closes the door to his bedroom. Dropping his backpack by his desk he flops down on the floor next to his bed and rests his head on the mattress.

Mitsuba’s always so perceptive.

Well, okay.

She’s not wrong.

He’s really freaking attracted to the barista, who’s name he doesn’t even know. So much so that as soon as he learns of the little things that tick him off, he does it to get his attention. So yea all the arguing and chasing and noogies, yea he purposefully does that because he can get close to that guy. And smell the coffee off his clothes. And feel those rough hands brushing against his skin. And feel his warm breath ghosting over his cheek.

“Goddamnit,” Sougo growls in a low voice.

That kinda makes him feel better, so he mutters it a hundred more times into the mattress until he accidentally passes out, face down, and hunched over his bed. So much for studying. He had a quiz the next day.

Sougo spends the next morning cramming for the quiz, so that he doesn’t even have the time to bicker with the hot barista that day.

Hot like that coffee he serves. Uh.

On the way home, he stops by a bakery to buy some slices of cake for Mitsuba as a nice surprise. The bakery owner, Gintoki Sakata, rings him up.

“Didn’t hear you two shouting at each other this morning, I slept in and couldn’t bake any Mont Blancs today,” Boss says, while punching in the prices.

“It’s funny how you are the one poking your head out to yell at us everyday yet you use us as an alarm, funny how things go, boss,” Okita stuffs a bread sample into his mouth.

“That’s not funny. I don’t need to buy a clock anymore because I have you guys. You know how they say, you gotta pick an alarm sound that is irritating and annoying so that you can think it's annoying forever. Good thing both of you are already like that so it’s great- Hey, one sample per customer!” Boss half-heartedly chides him while Okita steals two more samples.

“You know what’s really funny? How you two argue about the dumbest things every morning. Like seriously if you like him so much why don’t you go up and approach him like a normal human, rather than wake up the entire neighborhood from your weird mating dance, huh?” Boss pushes the neatly packaged cakes towards Okita.

“...” Okita drops the money in the tray and picks up the bag, “Thanks for the cakes, boss.”

He leaves without answering Gin’s question.

Approach him normally? Yea, that’s impossible given the current situation, but also? He’s talking about the kid who beyond playing sadistic pranks is completely clueless when it comes down to socializing normally. What is small talk? Flirting??? Asking someone out????

Who is he kidding? It’s more fun this way.

A part of him doesn’t deny his curiosity of what if by some crazy circumstance he was able to phrase the question, normally, and say _hey do you want to get a cup of coffee sometime or whatever else, you don’t have to serve it to me, we can go somewhere else_...on second thought maybe just imagining past the part of asking and to the part where he says yes. What would life be like then?

Maybe they can do things like holding hands and maybe other things like making out...maybe a lot of making out. And...maybe he’ll finally ask him what his name is. In the middle of making out so he can smell the espresso and the roasting beans and if the barista drinks the coffee he makes maybe he can taste it too. Yea. That’s nice. The smell of roasted coffee has never been so enticing. And now he’s craving coffee really bad.

“I-idiot, watch out, you’re gonna-!”

Sougo, with his mind lost in deep in the haze of a daydream, walks into a light pole and knocks himself out.

* * *

 

“Ouch…” he mutters as he tries to sit up, the black haze slowly receding from his sight.

“Don’t move, stupid.”

That familiar-sounding, raspy voice... Oh god. It’s him. Sougo resists the urge to flush red and he isn’t even sure if he succeeded as his head is still throbbing.

“Where…?”

“The cafe whose patio you keep walking over with your dirty shoes in the mornings, kid. Didn’t I tell you to stop moving?”

Something is holding him down against the padded booths in the cafe. He realizes its the barista’s hand. He relents to his grip and relaxes against the cushions. He’s at an angle where he’s facing the windows and the barista’s backlit in the late afternoon sun so he’s obscured in darkness while Sougo is squinting at the blinding yellow light.

“Stupid kid, can’t even walk properly. You should be lucky that what you walked into was a light pole and not a moving truck,” the dark shadow says while leaning forward and blocking out more light (thank god). Sougo wishes he could see what kind of face he’s making now. Or maybe not because that thought makes his heart speed up for unknown reasons.

Sougo winces as he feels something dab at a sensitive spot on his forehead that stings like a motherfucker. The dabs are gentle and they stop for a moment to be replaced by a cold cloth.

“Hold this,” he says and waits until Sougo’s fumbling fingers finally find purchase on the ice pack. He doesn’t mention anything about their fingers brushing against each other.

The barista leaves his spot and now Sougo is forced to turn away, at the expense of a massive wave of throbbing, to view the barista returning to his place behind the counter. The cafe is empty from what he sees. The chairs cast long shadows into the depths creating interesting shapes on the ground. He stares at the shadows in attempts to distract himself from what’s truly bothering him.

He finds that the hot burning feeling hasn’t left his ears or his face, but that’s pretty easily explainable because 1) it’s awkward as hell in here with barista not saying anything as he does whatever he’s doing behind the counter, 2) he cannot believe the barista saw him walk into a pole and as a follow up he cannot believe the barista tended to him after such an embarrassingly stupid thing that he didn’t want anyone and the very least the barista to see, 3) they are alone because it's really quiet and all he can hear is clinking coming from behind the counter.

Scrap his previously imagined scenarios of how they would actually get some private time together, this was not one of them.

The silence is overbearing and every moment of silence in this space with the smell of coffee beans is weighing down on his chest, per second the weight increases by the ton. What should he say? Where should he start? What can he say? There’s so many things to jump off on-

How about doing the usual by starting another argument? Uh, stop...stop cleaning the glasses because...uh...god, your face? His head hurts too much to continue his classic smartass repertoire. Uhm….thanks for tending to me? Ugh, no he’ll feel like he owes the Barista even more by saying it outloud. An apology maybe? Sorry I’ve been screwing around with you every morning but that’s honestly because I want you to notice me. Too desperate. How about just spilling? Hey I’ve been thinking about making out with you ever since we first yelled at each other on the streets. How romantic-- with that one-liner, he’ll fall for Sougo for sure. No, no, no.

Sougo opens up his mouth, “What’s your name?”

His voice cracks a little; he coughs as a reflex to follow up. The clinking stops, sounds of water being poured from a pitcher follows and finally footsteps that get close and stop.

“Toushiro Hijikata,” the barista says as he sets down the glass of water on the table in front of Sougo. The scent of coffee overwhelms him again like in his daydreams except this time, it’s real.

Sougo looks up at him. He glares down at him, or maybe his eyes are always that harsh.

“What’s yours?” He returns following a moment of silence.

“Sougo Okita,” He responds.

“Good. Finally have a name to call the little shit who makes my life hell. Drink your water.”

He turns to go back to his work, but Sougo sits up too quickly and grabs him by his shirt sleeve stopping him. Sougo doubles over as his brain probably flips over in his skull and knocks against that throbbing bump on his forehead.

“Stupid,” Hijikata mumbles as he turns again, “You should have stayed there, lying down.”

Sougo takes a sip of water, “Well then how can I drink if I’m laying down, idiot.”

“You’re a dumb kid, you can figure it out.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Sougo watches a bead of condensation drip down the glass against a backdrop of Hijikata crossing his arms, scowling at him.

“Well I could just spill water on your face and it's entirely up to you if you want to open your mouth and drink it,” Hijikata leans forward with annoyance in attempt to intimidate him. Sougo doesn’t blink.

“Gross I don’t want to hear about your weird fantasies, Mr. Hijikata.”

“What?! Stop twisting my words, you little-!”

Hijikata sputters as he is pulled down closer to Sougo until they are face to face. The warm exhales dust Sougo’s bottom lip and he hesitates looking at Hijikata questioningly. Do you get it now? This is what I want, this is almost all that I wanted, this is why I do what I do, this is why I bother you, so now answer me: do you want it too?

Hijikata just looks at him, eyes still wide in shock as if he hasn’t entirely processed or predicted this would happen. Heh, Sougo got him good. Try not to back out of this one though, he prays even though Sougo has never been spiritual in his life. _If you back off, I don’t know what I’ll do._

Hijikata blinks and exhales again the sound mixing with the silence like adding milk to coffee. Sougo smells smoke with coffee this time, a strange combination but he kind of likes it. At this point he finds himself unable to look Hijikata in the eyes anymore, opting to stare at their almost touching noses. Looking at his own nose without a mirror feels kinda weird. It’s strange and also it strains his eyes which in turn is  also agitating that bump. He’s running out of things to distract his brain from freaking about what they are doing. Oh god, please do something otherwise-- and then Hijikata leans forward and closes the gap.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he pushes himself against him.

They say that dreams are always better than reality but to be honest, reality in this case is much, much better than what any daydream can do for him.

It’s like coffee and smoke, with a hint of afternoon haze, the veil of silence, and the sense of solitude that really makes it real and unreal at the same time.

 

* * *

**Epilogue:**

Their first kiss was alright. Sougo would rate it maybe a 6/10. He mentioned this offhandedly one day to Hijikata while sitting at the bar, watching him make a cappuccino.

“What?! A 6/10? Please you don’t know quality when you see it.”

“I mean it was a little slobbery and I don’t drool when I make out so it was definitely you. Minus four points,” Sougo says twirling a doily around on the wooden counter top.

“What- I-?! If it was slobbery it was definitely you! Minus four points from what? Why are you docking me, you little shit?”

Hijikata tends to be very jumpy when he argues with Sougo, with full body exaggerated motions to compliment his retorts, so it’s quite a feat when he makes a beautiful steamed milk leaf on the cappuccino without messing it up.

“You’ll have to right that wrong to me in due time. But if I had to be honest-”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“-I don’t really have high hopes for you, Mr. Hijikata,” Sougo finishes.

“Oh yea?” Hijikata places the cappuccino in front of him.

Sougo raises his eyebrows in challenge. So Hijikata leans over the counter, grabs Sougo by his uniform, presses their mouths together. Sougo smiles as they kiss quietly and saccharine sweet in jaunting comparison to how loud they usually are when they meet up in public. The arguments still happen in the morning. Gin still yells at them to shut up. But as Sougo and Hijikata publically separate ways, Sougo makes a short detour every morning to the back of the ShinSen Coffee House where Hijikata waits for him and they can make out until the tardy bell. It’s honestly Hijikata’s fault he’s late to school every day.

Then summer comes and in the droll of the doldrums, Mitsuba urges Sougo to get a job instead of laying around playing video games all day. So he finds a job at the cafe. And even if his hours start later, he comes in early just to spend extra time alone with Hijikata.

So yea their first kiss wasn’t all that great. And it wasn’t because Hijikata slobbers too much. It was because he had just walked into a light pole, so the pain really detracted from the fireworks and sparks. But that’s okay, because there are many more chances to right that wrong with an order of the manager’s special cup of coffee every morning and every day thereafter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rusty and I have a lot of Gintama feels so I wrote this little thing as an exercise to fullfill an AU where everytime Okita and Hijikata meet, they argue about the dumbest things but that's what they live for and it's out of LOVE. So here. I'm done. haha (it's so cheesy I'm sorry)


End file.
